


Wet Dreams

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bestiality, Chan, Consent Issues, Don't copy to another site, Extremely Dubious Consent, Other, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-04
Updated: 2005-05-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:40:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22861906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Ron takes care of Fang while Hagrid is in Azkaban.
Relationships: Fang/Ron Weasley
Kudos: 51
Collections: Anonymous





	Wet Dreams

Ron remembered how in first year Harry had teased him about Fang - it was obvious that Fang was in love with Ron. Hermione only rolled her eyes and Ron laughed. He didn't mean it. The laughter, that is. See Harry didn't understand at the time that magical creatures, even ones as mundane as Fang were a lot more sentient than your average non-Magical creature. It really was quite possible that Fang was in love with Ron and that made him more than a smidge uncomfortable. 

How else were you supposed to react to the realisation that an animal cared for you in such a manner? Fang was forever licking Ron's face and drooling disgustingly - as though drool could be anything but - all over his shoulder. 

It was second year that Ron realised he couldn't be alone with Fang ever again. He'd gone down to check on the dog, take him for a walk, feed him - the normal things one does with a pet when its master is away. Harry and he had traded off days for this duty. It was too risky for them to both sneak out this often and with Hermione petrified, who else could cover for their whereabouts. 

On this particular day they were walking along the lake, Ron throwing small branches for Fang to catch when he miscalculated a step, the rocks giving out beneath his feet and Ron falling backward into the water. Completely drenched, Ron scrambled out of the water, intent on avoiding any possible interactions with the giant squid. 

"Fang! Come on, we've got to get back," Ron called out, slapping his leg and nodding his head toward Hagrid's hut. Fang dropped his branch and ran to Ron, then past him and up to the front stoop. Ron dredged along, his trousers and robe clinging to his skin making walking rather difficult. Oncer inside, Ron set out fresh dishes of food and water for the dog. He contemplated walking back to the castle like this, but even with the invisibility cloak he was likely to get caught. And with his wand broken, he didn't dare try and charm his clothes dry. The only thing worse than walking back to the castle in wet clothes was walking back in no clothes. 

Ron started a fire in the hearth, figuring it would be the best source of heat for keeping him warm and for drying his clothes. He pulled over one of the large benches and placed it in front of the crackling fire. It took a bit of work, as the bench was much heavier than he had thought, but he eventually managed the task. Before even considering stripping down to nothing, Ron searched through Hagrid's wardrobe and selected a very comfortable looking short sleeved shirt. It would be far too large for him, but it was better than sitting around Hagrid's hut in the nude. Right?

He cast a furtive glance at Fang, who was still busy with his meal, before stripping off his clothing, spreading them carefully across the bench. He then pulled on Hagrid's dry shirt, chuckling as the fabric fell nearly to his ankles, the sleeves down to his wrists. There was more than enough room in this shirt for one or two more of him. Now all he had to do was wait. He crawled onto Hagrid's bed as it was likely the most comfortable piece of furniture and pulled his legs to his chest, resting his head on his knees. Ron watched the fire and watched his clothes dry, but it was taking an awful long time. He hoped Harry wasn't worried. If only Hagrid kept an owl, he could send Harry a letter. 

Yawning, Ron laid down and curled up under a large animal pelt. He'd just take a little nap, and his clothes were bound to be ready when he woke up. Fang jumped up onto the bed and curled up next to him. Ron was asleep and snoring softly within minutes, the warmth of the fire and the pelt lulling him into a deep sleep. 

Ron wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep when he woke up with the feeling he'd just pissed himself. His lap was soaked and he very nearly panicked. He hadn't wet the bed since he was six and had about a litre of water before bed. He'd have got up to piss then, but there was a large spider crawling on the floor and he wasn't about to go anywhere near it. Still half alert he looked over at where Fang had been sleeping but he was gone now. 

And that's when he felt it. a tongue running up his penis. His erect penis. He'd had a few erections before, but he'd always been too embarrassed to do anything about it. As far as he knew none of the other boys in his year had started puberty. He was taller than the whole lot of them, so it was no surprise that he'd be ahead of them in other areas as well. 

Wait. A tongue was on his dick. And Fang was missing. Opening his eyes he glanced down to see a tail poking out from under the pelt, wagging excitedly as the licks continued. Ron nearly screamed. This was not happening. He was _not_ having his first ever sexual experience with a dog. Worse yet, Hagrid's dog that Harry said was in love with him. Oh god, if Harry only knew how right he was. 

And oh god, if only he could muster up the desire to make Fang stop because that long tongue lapping at his heated flesh was a very amazing feeling. Ron closed his eyes and imagined it was Hermione's tongue but that image didn't stay very long. _Hermione wouldn't lick that sloppily_. Ron moaned as he felt his balls tighten and Fang's licks increased in speed. Ron found his fingers digging into the sheets beneath him, felt his hips rising up and pressing against the dog's tongue. This was so very wrong, he kept reminding himself. 

He gasped, his come spilling all over his stomach, legs, dick and Fang's tongue. It was such a mess and Ron thought he should clean it up when Fang set right to that duty. Of course. Fang was a dog and dogs did that. Almost instantly he was hard again and he began to repeat to himself, as though it were a mantra, "I'm not aroused by a dog. I'm not aroused by a dog. I'm not aroused by a dog." And Fang wouldn't stop licking and Ron couldn't do anything about it. Not when it felt so good. Not when the wet heat kept sliding against his dick. Not when his legs were spread apart. Not when Fang's tongue was straying to his balls, causing the light dusting of red curls to grow damp. Not when he was so close to coming again. 

Ron came twice more before Fang stopped, curling up with his head in Ron's lap. Ron was frozen in place, his eyes open wide and staring up at the ceiling. He was a pervert. A first class pervert. There was no way anyone could be more perverted than him - letting a dog give him what equated to three consecutive blowjobs.

Looking out the window, Ron noticed it was getting late and the sun looked like it would set any minute. Extracting himself out from under Fang, who whimpered at the loss of his true love, Ron checked on his clothes. They were dry at last and he was dressed and wrapped in the invisibility cloak before you could say "Chocolate Frog." The trip back to the castle was quick, and it was easy enough to sneak back up to Gryffindor Tower with everyone occupied in the Great Hall for supper. He could only hope that Harry would think to bring him something to eat. 

However, the most pressing matter was putting Harry's cloak away and hopping into a hot bath. One that could wash away the mixed feelings of perversion, guilt, and the dirt and grime from falling into a lake and coming all over his lap. No matter how well Fang had licked, he still felt sticky, and that wouldn't do. 

Later that night, Ron explained to Harry that he just couldn't take care of Fang any more. He visibly paled when Harry responded with, "What, afraid Fang's going to put the moves on you?"


End file.
